The Road Home
by Iridescent Silver
Summary: "I let it go. It's like swimming against the current. It exhausts you. After a while, whoever you are, you just have to let go, and the river brings you home." ― Joanne Harris
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

**Summary: **"I let it go. It's like swimming against the current. It exhausts you. After a while, whoever you are, you just have to let go, and the river brings you home."  
― Joanne Harris

**A/N: **Sunflower Fanfiction has kindly agreed to beta this story. A big thanks to her for taking out the time to correct my mistakes. This story will have 10-15 chapters and it will be updated every two weeks.

Happy Reading!

* * *

**The Road Home Chapter 1**

My altimeter says it's still not high enough to jump.

My mind tells me otherwise.

I'm already sky high. Or maybe that's just the weed Jamie hit me up with before we boarded the plane, flying up here.

I watch the jump master's harness the first time tandem divers with their instructors. It's almost comical how fast the expressions on their faces change.

There's tapping of feet and hammering of heart.

There is a cadence of words and sounds.

The air is electric.

Some of the first timers look ebullient while others look a little green.

I hope none of them pukes this time. It stinks up the place like crazy.

"Ten says that chick faints before they even open the gates." Jamie whispers in my ear, nodding at a particularly pale girl who is tightly clutching the sides of her seat.

"You're on," I whisper back, turning to face him.

Jamie smiles down at me. Light coming through the Otter's windows reflecting off his blond hair, and the dark of his pupils combined with his huge build makes him look even more fearsome.

"Where's Em this time?" He asks, chewing on mint gum.

I shrug.

I hadn't spoken to Em since the last time we all went skydiving together in California.

"He calls me whenever he's in New York. Maybe he's not back from Virginia yet."

"I can't believe he missed Waialua, man! He's going to regret this big time!" Jamie shakes his head.

Thunderous noise from the Twin Otter's engines fill the air as the gates are let down. Cold air washes all over us and I have to blink several times to adjust to the bright light.

"Girl's still alive. You owe me ten." I tell Jamie, discreetly pointing at the pale girl.

"Whoa! Check this out, Iz!" Jamie shouts, above all of the noises as he looks out the window and down below.

I crane my neck to look out one of the windows and let out a small gasp.

The deep blue of the pacific stretches far and wide beneath us, and it is mesmerizing. The sun is high in the east sky and the light almost makes the water seem to shimmer.

I let out a whistle.

I remember it's my turn to chose where we go next. Hawaii was Jamie's idea and it is seriously going to be some tough act to follow.

The idea of recreational sports never ceases to enliven me. I know I could jump off this plane, break a couple of limbs and probably never walk again. I know I could die. But something about falling through five thousand meters of air, or rafting through the wild, white waters, evoke feelings inside that make me keep coming back.

Death is inevitable.

I'd rather see it living my life the way I want to.

In the last six years, I've traveled the whole of America and probably seen half of the world already. Between my job, and these recreational activities Em, Jamie and I set up every once, in a while, I bounce from city to city every month. Paris, Bangkok, Beijing, you name it. And, I've loved every single moment of it.

I look up when I hear my name being called, and am surprised to see almost half of the plane is already empty. The jump master nods at me and I get up from my seat, securing my camera and putting on my gloves.

"You ready?" A tandem instructor asks me.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," I grin back, putting my hands straight out.

Pushing my feet back, I jump.

I've done this more than a couple of times, but still, every time I make that jump, it feels like the first time all over again.

I'm flying.

Again.

My ears pop because of the pressure and I can hardly hear anything except for the howling wind around me. As I continue to move in forward throw, the fogginess clears up slowly and I gasp aloud for the second time today.

It's as if someone painted the scenery beneath me.

The unrealistic beauty of the waves of the pacific crashing on the sandy shore, the patchwork of farmland; each with a different crop; honey, yellow, orange colors all masterfully sewn together. And finally, the mountain ridges on the far south, standing proud and mighty, makes the hair on my arms stand up.

I hear Jamie shouting at the top of his lungs as I scramble for my camera and turn around slightly to see him catching up to me. Quickly turning on my Nikon, I snap a picture of him and laugh out loud at how ridiculous it seems on screen.

I take countless shots of the island even though it is all imprinted in my memory and will be forever. Pushing my arms and legs back, I move closer to the others.

We fall through the air and laugh and scream.

We do back-flips and come together in a circle.

I solidify each moment on film.

Jamie taps the altimeter on his wrist and we break away. I move away from him, pull on the toggle and feel my body being jerked upwards as my parachute is deployed.

The parachute gains surface area and I begin to slow down. Pointing my camera up, I click pictures of the red and white striped parachute. It takes a few more minutes for me to reach the ground and all the while, I keep clicking pictures and enjoying the soft wind blowing through my hair and the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

It's exhilarating.

I land as smoothly as ever, bending my legs at the last minute. As soon as I crawl out from under the parachute, a pair of lips crushes against mine.

I let out a soft moan and hungrily kiss Jamie back. He rests his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, "That was awesome, wasn't it?"

I nod, too overwhelmed to say anything.

"Just imagine. You're going to have to beat THAT."

"Shut up, dipshit. By the way, you still owe me ten dollars." I reply, excising myself from the parachute and taking off my helmet.

"I'm buying us dinner today anyway." Jamie runs his hand through his blond locks, smirking down at me.

"Oh, really? And when did I agree to this?" I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning back.

"Stop playing hard to get, Iz. I know you like me."

"You know your arrogance never fails to astound me." I shake my head, walking with an uneven gait.

"Oh, c'mon! Have dinner with me. Just this once."

I try to ignore his puppy-dog face and unconsciously bite my lip again as I contemplate my decision. We've fooled around a lot, but we've never labeled anything. On one hand, he works for me, so this can end pretty badly with me having to search for a new assistant. Jamie and I share a sense of camaraderie that I didn't want to end. On the other, he really is fuck-hot.

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. Have these films developed and in my office by tomorrow morning and I'll have dinner with you." I wink, throwing my camera at him.

"You got it, boss," He smiles at me and I freeze.

I freeze because I have butterflies in my tummy. I haven't felt butterflies since… forever.

Since a certain green-eyed boy told me, he loved me.

* * *

I ignore the babble of the other customers around me and concentrate on my food. The ambiance within the restaurant is calming and the sunlight filtering through the screens create a dappled effect on the wall opposite me.

"So, Isabella, how are you? It's been such a long time since I've talked to you." Aro's eyes twinkle as he speaks.

"I'm good, Sir, thanks for asking. How are Jane and Alec?" I ask, spearing the ravioli.

His face instantly brightens at the name of his children. "They're better, I guess. You know it hasn't been easy on them since their mother passed away, but they seem much happier now."

"That's great, Sir. Please tell them I miss them very much when you return."

Aro chuckles. "Sweetheart, they absolutely adore you. Specially, Jane. You know, she asked for a camera on her eighth birthday. My little girl says she wants to become a photographer and take pretty pictures, just like you."

I smile and blush while the waiter comes to refill our wine glasses. Aro straightens up and puts his elbows up on the table, threading his fingers together.

"You've bewitched the entire industry with your astounding talent, Isabella. I knew I saw something within you when I first hired you." Aro beams at me. "And that is why I've come to with yet another job offer."

I rest my knife and fork on the plate as I look up at him. For a man who is in his late thirties, Aro looks very aged. I've known him for all of five years now. He's kind and compassionate, but he can also be rough and callous when he needs to be.

Aro tells me about the job, and my heart beats faster and faster. He tells me I have to take photographs for a magazine centered on tourism and traveling. He tells me about the places I will visit, and the people I'll meet and the things I'll do. My knee starts bouncing rhythmically.

Aro leans back on his chair and smiles at me knowingly.

He knows I won't refuse.

It's all I've ever wanted.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

"You don't have to decide this very moment, Isabella. Take all the time you need." Aro sips his wine.

"Excuse me, please," I stand up and grab my purse, hurrying to the washroom.

I turn the water on with shaking fingers and splash some on my face and arms. My body feels overheated. I take in my reflection in the large mirror. My face is glowing in shades of pink, and water is running down the sides of my hair. The white blouse and red knee length skirt I'm wearing is formal and fits perfectly, and my too-high heels give it an edge. It isn't every day that I dress this way.

I get myself together and quickly redo my makeup but the buzz of my phone interrupts me.

I look at the caller id and frown.

_Rose_

I press the green key and put the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I speak into the phone, unsurely.

"Bells?" The voice on the other end debilitates me. I was expecting a callow tone, but the voice I hear is mature. It _is_ Rosalie, though. I recognize the edge in her voice.

"Yeah, hi."

I'm confused.

Rosalie hadn't spoken to me in years. I didn't know anything about her anymore except the little bits of information Em fed me every once in a while.

She sighs. "I almost thought you wouldn't answer."

My frown is back in place. "Why would I do that?"

She sighs again, impatiently this time. "Look, Bella, I know a lot has happened. A lot has changed. There are a lot of misunderstandings that none of us ever thought to resolve. We were young and stupid and we made mistakes. Anyway, I called you today because I … Well, I miss you. I always have, but I never had enough courage to pick up the phone and call you."

I breathe in shakily. "Rose, I … I miss you too."

She laughs and I hear the tears in her laugh. "Bella, I'm getting married."

I gasp, the tears finally leaking out of my eyes. "Oh my God Rose! That's amazing! Em didn't tell me a thing. I'm going to kill that asshole when I meet him."

Suddenly, Rose becomes quiet. I almost think she hung up on me until I hear sniffling on the other end.

"Rose?" I call.

"It's not Em, Bella. It's Royce. I'm marrying Royce King."

I almost drop my phone. "What but … Why? What happened?"

"I haven't seen Em for almost a year, Bella. We broke-up last year. I'm sorry he didn't tell you."

I stand clutching the edge of the sink, too shocked to speak.

"Anyway, the wedding is in a month and I want you here. We've been planning our wedding since we were six, Bella. I _need_ you here. I need my bridesmaid here."

Memories of an older, happier time sweep me away. For a moment, I'm transfixed, just remembering.

_It's winter and we're fifteen. I'm in love with the color green. Rose says she is in love. We're sitting cross-legged in Rose's living room, circled around Nana Hale and a crackling fire, listening to the same old stories over and over again._

_Nana sits on her abraded rocking chair, used for many years and one she refuses to give up. She wears a gaudy rhinestone necklace with an excessively garish silver dress as she reads abstruse works of philosophy. We all know she's slightly eccentric and wordy, but we love that about her. Even at an old age, she's one tough cookie. Even Carlisle can't win an argument against her. I envy Rose for having such a cool grandmother. _

_We're feasting on Esme's special roast beef, which is one of my favorites. It's delectable. Rose eyes my food hungrily but doesn't have any, claiming to be on an abstemious vegan diet. She thinks she's getting fat. I roll my eyes at her__._

"_Hales are stupid and impulsive. It's in our blood." Nana smiles, looking at a picture of herself and Papa Hale. "We believe too strongly on the notion of love at first sight."_

_Edward makes a gagging gesture and I giggle loudly._

"_I can see you, young man." Nana warns, but her eyes remain closed. Edward stills immediately._

"_Your grandfather won me over to elope with him. Rose's mother broke off her engagement with the most eligible bachelor in town to marry her father. And you, young man, your father married his first, one night stand … Well, it wasn't a one night stand now that you think about it."_

_We all laugh, even though Edward's parents are slightly red in the face._

_Nana turns to face Edward and speaks in a jaunty voice, "So you see, Edward? We have the same blood running through our veins, which means you'll be marrying your first love, no matter what it takes you to do so, just like we all have. Just like Rosie will."_

_I curl up into a ball and simply bask in the warmth of the moment. I look at Rose and she has tears in her eyes and a beatific smile on her face. Em's arm is tightly wrapped around her, and in that moment I'm sure they'll end up together. They'll grow up and he'll propose, and she'll say yes. She'll have a spring wedding, with purple flowers and white, poofy dresses. It'll be as we always planned. _

_We stay up half the night, just talking, sharing stories. Among all the chatter and my musings, I don't even feel the green eyes burning my skin all night._

We're both crying by this point. "I'll be honored to be your bridesmaid, Rose." I whisper into the phone. "But …" My voice falters.

"But, nothing. You're going to be here. You'll be by my side when I say my vows and you'll capture the biggest day of my life on film, just like we planned."

She listens while I remain quiet and finally she sighs, answering my unspoken question. "Yes, he'll be here. Of course, he'll be here. He's my damn cousin. You're just going to have to suck it up."

I smile. "Well, then I guess I'm coming home."

After finishing the phone call and promising Rose that I'll call her back once I book my flight, I quickly redo my makeup and leave the washroom. I find Aro finishing his dessert and typing on his phone when I get back and I apologize for my lateness.

"Isabella, how long are we going to pretend that you haven't already decided to take the job?" Aro grins. He knows me too well.

"I can start in a month. Will that be a problem?"

"No, it's no problem. But why do you need a month? Will you be going somewhere?" Aro frowns.

"I'm going home for my best friend's wedding."

On its own accord, my mouth pulls up in a wide smile.

**-x-**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own twilight.**

**A/N: Sunflower Fanfiction is my kick-ass beta. A big thanks to her for taking out the time to correct my mistakes. I also want to thank Eduardiana and Nicffwhisperer for recommending this story to people and every single one of you who read and reviewed. You guys are awesome!**

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

**The Road Home Chapter 2**

A large, white envelope hits my desk with a loud thwack and I look up to find Jamie grinning down at me. His long, blond hair is tied behind him in a small ponytail and he wears a Led Zeppelin band T-shirt I gifted him two Christmases ago.

"Here are the pictures you asked for," He nods at the envelope, throwing himself in one of the chair facing me.

I sip on my coffee and open the envelope, taking out the stack of photos. I love the feel of the photo paper under my fingertips; it's cool and smooth and my fingers slide effortlessly across the paper.

It's an astonishing view on paper, no doubt about , but the snapshots feel empty to me. The ocean doesn't seem deep enough; and, the mountains, not high enough.

There are no goose bumps, no heartbeats.

It's hollow.

I slide my thumb over the watermark of my initials at the right hand corner of each photograph and sigh.

These photographs don't justify the real experience.

No photographs ever justify the real experience.

"Nice job on these, Iz. They look amazing." Jamie acclaims.

I shoot him a smile.

I go through the pictures quickly and separate them into neat piles. I put the ones that highlight the ethereal beauty of the island back into the envelope and hand it to Jamie saying, "Send the soft-copies of those to Marcus. Tell him he can pick any for that article on skydiving."

Jamie takes the envelope from me and nods, but doesn't stand. I gather the rest of the pictures and put them in my desk drawer.

"I can't remember the first photo I ever took. It was so insignificant. I mean, back then I didn't even know I wanted to become a professional photographer." Jamie speaks randomly, staring upward, his arms behind his head.

"You're not alone there, bud. Most photographers don't remember." I tell him.

Jamie grins but shakes his head. "Do you remember yours?" He asks suddenly.

_Of __course__**,**__ I remember. _

I shake my head, forcing memories of mud fights and stolen kisses away from my mind. Instead of answering, I check my phone for what seems like the thousandth time today.

The screen is black**,** indicating that there are no missed-calls.

"Any important calls?" My question stirs Jamie awake from his silent musings.

"Nah. I'm the one calling people like crazy to cancel your appointments for the month. I swear to God, Iz, the amount of work you do in a week is downright scary." Jamie fakes a shiver, saying, "I've cleared your schedule for the month, though. You're good to go."

I mumble a thank you to Jamie and open the recent call logs on my phone, calling the first number I see. I've been constantly calling this number since yesterday and no one has picked up yet. It was driving me crazy.

"So … About that di―" Jamie starts to stay but stops, looking at me and frowning. "What is it? You look worried."

I end the call, sighing. "It's Em. He isn't picking up his damn phone."

"You think this has got something to do with your friend getting married?"

I look at him, biting my lip. "Maybe."

Slouching in my chair, I push myself in circles, thinking, as my eyes sweep over the pictures on the walls. Em is in almost every single one of them, always smiling or laughing. He's got one of those smiles that are contagious and it makes me smile.

I straighten up in my seat as an idea suddenly hits me.

"Do you remember the guy that Em brought with him to the bar a couple of times—the one that works with him?" I turn to Jamie, almost bouncing in my seat.

He looks up at me, wide-eyed. "You mean the gay dude who forcefully installed his number in my phone?"

I nod vigorously. "Do you still have his number?"

"Yeah, I think so," Jamie pulls out his phone from his pocket and I all but rip it away from his hand. I scroll down his contacts, muttering, "What was the guy's name?"

"Gabe? Gale? Gary?" Jamie scrunches up his face, trying to remember.

"Garrett?" I stop at the name on the screen.

"Yeah, that's the guy." Jamie nods.

I hit call and wait for someone to pick up.

"Hello?" A masculine voice answers.

"Hi. You may not remember me but I'm Bella Swan, one of Emmett's friends."

Garrett chuckles on the other end. "No, I remember you. The hot brunette, right? How is that blond friend of yours? He never called."

I stifle a smile and look at Jamie. "Oh, he's good."

"How may I help you, Bella?"

"I was wondering if you know where Em is. I've been calling him but he isn't picking up and I'm getting worried. Isn't his assignment in Virginia supposed to be over by now?" I speak into the phone, nervously toying with the ends of my hair.

Jamie stares at me impassively.

"As far as I know, his assignment completed over a week ago. He's back in New York but he hasn't been in the office. I think he's taken a couple of weeks off for personal reasons."

"Oh, well, thanks. Please call on this number if you happen to hear from him."

I hang up and give Jamie back his phone.

"Em is MIA," I say, grabbing my phone from the desk and standing up. "C'mon," I usher Jamie out of my studio office.

"Where are we going?" Jamie gets into the passenger seat of the car and pulls on his seatbelt while I start the engine.

"To Em's."

"You look so tired, Iz. Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Jamie frowns at the bags under my eyes.

"Jet lag sucks ass." I put on my shades to cover my eyes.

"Yeah tell me about it." Jamie massages the back of his neck.

The flight back from Hawaii to New York was a long one. I was barely able to sleep as my hyperactive mind kept mulling over Rose's call. I hadn't been home in so long. When I left Forks after the funeral, I never thought I'd be returning. There were too many hateful words, too many broken promises, even to consider returning. I had turned my home into my personal hell without even realizing what I had done.

I pull up in the drivewayin front of Em's house and let out a breath.

The outside of the house looks perfect.

There's no broken doors or shattered windows.

Jamie gets out of the car and walks slowly to the door, ringing the bell twice. I press my ear to the door but don't even hear a whisper of life inside.

Jamie backs away from the door. "So, do I kick it down?"

I roll my eyes.

"That's not necessary." I walk over to the lawn and turn over a flowerpot just enough to swipe the key from underneath. Using the key, the door clicks open.

The inside of the house is dark. I remove my shades and switch on my phone to give us some light. The curtains are drawn so I walk over and yank them open. As the light through the window illuminates the living room, I gasp aloud.

Countless empty bottles of beer and other alcoholic beverages cover the floor. Clothes are strewn all over the place. The kitchen countertop is stacked with empty pizza and take-out boxes, and there is an overflowing pile of dirty dishes in the sink. The acrid smell in the air makes me gag.

A groan reverberates around the inside of the house and I follow the source of the noise to one of the bedrooms with Jamie hot on my heels.

The sight inside makes me palm my face.

Em lies sprawled across the mattress, his face digging into one of the pillows. Half of the covers are on the floor and half of them are cocooned around his legs. He's only in his boxers and just as in the living room, the floor in the bedroom is also littered with empty beer bottles. From where I'm standing, I can't get a good look at his face, but I can see enough to tell that he hasn't shaved in days.

Jamie shakes him. "Em, man, get up."

Em doesn't move a single inch so Jamie tries again.

"Don't bother," I tell him after his fifth, unsuccessful attempt. "He won't get up."

Jamie's face blanches. "What do you mean?"

I ignore his question and go to the kitchen, returning with a glass filled with coldwater. Jamie's eyes pop open and he backs away as I dump the water over Em's head.

The effect is immediate.

Em jumps awake, turning over in a blink of an eye.

"_What the hell_?" He roars at me.

I grab a towel from the cupboard. Leaping on top of the bed, I literally start kicking him out. He instinctively shies away from my hits until he's precariously hanging from the edge of the bed.

"_Get. _

_The. _

_Fuck. _

_Up_."

I throw the towel in his face.

Em falls on his ass with a loud thump and pulls the towel away from his face, raising his hands in surrender. Jamie helps him up and that's when I get a good look at his face.

There are dark shadows under his eyes and his greasy hair has grown way past his ears. Half of his face is covered with a rough beard. The haggard look on his face makes my eyes tear.

"Go take a shower. You stink." I point at the bathroom door.

He acquiesces, walking to the door and closing it behind him.

"And shave off that damn beard!" I shout as I hear the shower begin.

I walk back to the kitchen and pull a few bills from my purse, stuffing them in Jamie's hand. "Get us some food." Opening the refrigerator door, I scrunch my nose in disgust. "And pick up some groceries on your way. There's barely anything edible in here."

As soon as Jamie takes my keys and walks out, I get to work.

I pick up the empty bottles and stow them in a plastic bag, making a mental note to put it in the garbage bin later.I collect the clothes strewn all over and strip the bed of its covers, and then put them in the washing machine. After washing the dishes, I go and sit down on the couch and wait for Em to finish.

Putting my feet up on the table, I adjust the cushions to get a bit more comfortable and that's when I feel something beneath the palm of my hand. Pulling it out, I curse aloud.

Barging into the bathroom, I find Em standing in front of the sink, shaving. Glaring at me, he tightens the towel wrapped around his waist and opens his mouth to yell, but I cut him off, "_What the fuck is this_?" I hold up the packet containing fine white powder.

His face pales and he quickly reaches for the packet, but I'm faster. In the blink of an eye, I have the top of the packet opened and hovering over the open toilet. "So, is this how it goes, things don't work out the way you want them, so you turn to drugs? You fucking coward!" I yell.

Em shakes his head frantically, looking desperate. "I swear to God, Bella, I didn't use. I just bought it on a whim."

My eyes sweep over him, checking for any sign that he maybe lying. But as horrible as he looks, he doesn't look as if he's on coke, so I roll my eyes and let the packet drop, flushing it down quickly.

"Finish and come to the living room. We have to talk." I tell him and leave.

I find an egg in the refrigerator that doesn't smell too bad, so I heat up a pan and fry it. By the time I'm finished, Em is sitting on the couch, his face clean of facial hair. He looks emaciated, his expression forlorn, but at least now, he looks like himself. I hand him the plate and take a seat beside him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask as he takes his first bite.

Em swallows audibly. "I just couldn't."

He wasn't going to make this easy.

"What happened? Why'd you break up?"

He sighs. "You were right before, when you said I'm a coward. I really am a fucking coward. I always knew we'd somehow end up together and I knew I'd marry her." He gulps. "I guess I just took her for granted."

I wait silently as he continues. "She kept talking about rings and the kind of gown she'd wear for her own wedding and I just freaked out, Bella. I felt like I was too young to get married and I told her so."

"And?" I probe.

"She told me we should take a break … A _break_, Bella. That was all this was supposed to be. She wasn't supposed to go and get engaged in the meantime." He cradles his head in his hands.

I pinch the tip of my nose, huffing. "You idiot."

"When Edward called me a couple of weeks ago, telling me about the wedding, I thought he was joking." Em says, his voice muffled by his hands.

I ignore the way my heart jumps at _his_ name, instead concentrating on Em's words. "I mean, nobody even bothered to tell me about her engagement. If I knew, I would have … I could have …" His voice falters and I can almost hear the choked sobs in them.

"How'd you know?" He questions suddenly.

"Uh, Rose called me a couple of days ago. She … She wants me to be her bridesmaid."

He nods silently, looking resigned.

"I take it you won't be going to Forks then." I say.

He shakes his head. "It's too painful. I won't be able to just stand there and watch her marry another guy." Em says the last part with acerbity that surprises me.

I keep silent because I don't have any words to comfort him. Maybe it was because a tiny part of me that still foolishly believed in love and forever was dying.

"If marrying that guy is what will make her happy then I'm happy for her." Em announces in an emotionless voice.

At these words, the last of my hope withers away.

Suddenly, I'm angry again.

I want to shake him, kick him, and slap him until he cries for her.

I want to scream at him until he realizes what an idiot he's been.

I want him to go and get her back.

Instead, I just sit there and stare blankly.

Nana Hale lied.

* * *

_I narrow my eyes at the car speeding towards me and hold my breath. There's only one person in this small town who owns a silver Volvo, so I'm not surprised when the door opens and Edward gets out._

"_What are you doing here? I called for Rose." I stop swinging my legs through the open truck door and cross my arms in front of me._

"_Well, hello to you, too." One corner of his mouth pulls up in his trademark smirk as he surveys the damage around me. "How do you always manage to end up in these situations, Bella?" He stares pointedly at my truck __tires,__ which are currently drowning in mud._

_I roll my eyes, hopping off my seat. This is my __fifth,__ car disaster in a year. Okay, maybe my sixth. My point is cars and I don't actually get along._

"_It just won't budge." I groan._

"_Okay, get in and __restart it while I go__ push from behind. If that doesn't work, I'll drop you home." Edward starts to roll up the end of his jeans as I get in the truck._

"_You ready?" I shout glancing back to see Edward position himself behind my truck, his palms flat against __its__ body. Beneath his T-__shirt,__ I can see the muscles in his arms straining__, and__ I can't help but stare. He looks up and catches me, __as I__ quickly turn back around, blushing slightly._

_The air carries the sound of his chuckles back to __me,__ and my blush __deepens as__ I hit the accelerator as hard as I can._

"_Fuck!" His angry voice comes from behind. _

"_Dammit, Bella, stop!" Edward growls._

_I cut the engine and jump out. _

"_What's the pro_―" _I stop dead in my tracks, a sudden laugh bursting out of my mouth._

_Edward stands behind my truck, his arms in the air and covered in mud from head to toe. His fiery, bronze hair that somehow always manages to stand on its ends, is now plastered to his forehead. The expression of shock on his face pushes me over the edge and all of a __sudden, I'm__ laughing hysterically, clutching my stomach for dear life._

_I'm too busy getting my __laughter under control and__ I don't notice when Edward moves out of my line of view. __Suddenly, out __of the blue, something hits me hard in the back of my head and the resulting force makes me __double over__, falling face forward into the puddle of mud._

_Resounding laughter hits my ears and I get up slowly, wiping the mud off my face. Turning around, I find Edward leaning on my truck, a satisfied grin etched across his face. _

_Without thinking about the consequences, I lunge at him, throwing __us both off-balance,__ and tumbling down into the knee-deep mud. Edward's arms go around me and he turns us slightly so that he falls on his back with me above him. _

_He grunts below me and I look down at him._

"_You okay?" I ask, concerned the fall might have hurt him._

_He stares at me, his eyes full of mirth and I realize a second too late that I'm in trouble. _

_I squeal as Edward rolls __us over and__ pushes me down in the mud, his lips inches from mine. My eyes bounce from his eyes to his lips and suddenly I find myself wanting him to close the distance between us._

_Edwards cups my cheek and lightly touches my lips with his thumb, almost __as if__ he's asking for permission. _

_I reach up and pull his face down to mine._

_Our lips move in __perfect synchronization._

_I__ think back to all the moments I wanted to run my hand through his hair, so I go ahead, throwing caution __out the__ window, and tug on a fistful. Edward moans slightly in my mouth and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. I let my hands wander __over__ his back and gasp aloud when he nips at my bottom lip._

_A car zooms past us, and a voice bellows, "Get a room!"_

_We break apart, smiling at each other like idiots._

I pull the zipper of my suitcase closed**, **and roll it to the door. I have to get up at four in the morning to catch the flight. All I want now is to get in bed and get a good night's sleep.

My mind refuses to shut up.

I toss and turn for a couple of hours, trying desperately to sleep. When it doesn't work, I begrudgingly get on my feet and walk to my closet, knowing full well sleep won't come until I get this over with.

Standing on my toes, I reach for the black box on the highest shelf and blow off the dust. I settle down on the hardwood floor and breathe in deeply. Opening the box, I avoid looking at most of its contents because I simply can't bear that right now. My hands search for something in particular and I pick it up when I feel it under my fingers.

The photo is one from an instant camera.

It's a little blurry, a little unfocused; but, even through the sheets of rain, the green eyes are piercing.

"_Take a picture, Bella. It'll last longer."_

I smile at the memory of his voice ringing in my ears.

I had done what he asked.

I did take a picture.

I took _this_ picture.

And now, after all these years, I wish I hadn't.

Sighing, I put the photograph back and close the lid over the photograph of the only boy I've ever loved.

The boy I never deserved in the first place.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: All credits of beta'ing goes to Fran. The lady has super powers. Thanks a bunch to Nic for recommending TRH on TLS and of course, to every reviewer who took out a moment to leave me some love.**

**This chapter is probably going to make you ask a lot of questions. Feel free to ask away.**

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

**_The Road Home Chapter 3_**

_I want to scream, but I don't._

_I want to stomp my feet and punch a pillow, but I don't, because that'll just make my father roll his eyes and mumble, _'_teenagers_.'

_I want to break something, before the anger bubbling within me breaks me._

_My eyes shoot to the mantelpiece and a lifeless photograph of my mother stares back at me. _

_It doesn't hurt me anymore._

_But it will hurt him._

_Her memory still hurts him, but that's only because he doesn't know what I know._

_I don't even realize it when my legs carry me forward. I don't feel anything when I chuck the frame _onto the floor.

_It shatters on_ _impact_,_ and the crash reverberates through the house._

"_Bella."_

_It's a whisper- a defeated whisper. _

_It's a plea to stop. _

_The sound makes me want to pull out my hair by its ends._

_Charlie crouches down on the floor and picks up a large piece of broken glass. His curly hair falls on his face and makes it hard to see his expression and I'm glad for that. _

"_I don't know what to do with you anymore." He sighs, his eyes still on the floor._

_My heart feels void; __non-beating and still_.

"_Just let __me go, please__, just let me go." I choke out._

_My father looks up at me, his eyes swimming with unshed tears._

"_Go then," His voice is strong but impassive, almost like he's giving up._

_The words I had been begging to hear a minute ago, shocks me to muteness. _

_I'm supposed to be happy, but I'm not._

_My gut wrenches and my eyes well up and suddenly, I can't get out of __there fast__ enough._

"_She loved you, you know," Charlie's words stop me on my tracks._

_I know she loved me. _

_But love, sometimes, just isn't enough._

"_I never had a __mother,"__ I say and then I sprint out into the rain, never looking back._

* * *

The day begins just as any day in Forks should- with rain. I watch the storm clouds roll in through the window of the motel I'm staying in for the following, thirty-one days. It's small and shabby and the only place I could find at such short notice.

Right at this moment, I regret selling Charlie's house. If I still owned that place, it would have saved me the worry of water leaking through the roof and me dying of hypothermia.

Thunder booms above and I shrug on my jacket. Grabbing my keys, I hurry down the stairs to get in the rental car and get the heater going.

I'd forgotten how cold Forks could be.

It's drizzling now, and all I can smell is wet earth. I roll the window down halfway regardless of the cold air, just to breathe in the refreshing aroma.

I can't say that Forks _has_ changed during the time I was gone because that would be a lie. I also can't say Forks _hasn't _changed, either, because that would be a lie, too.

The people here either know everything about me or they don't; there's nothing in between. Every familiar face I've come upon yet has displayed the same sympathetic expression.

They're sorry.

They're curious.

They're fishing for gossip about the prodigal daughter returning home.

It reminds me of all the reasons why I fled this town.

As I zoom past the series of houses towards the Hale mansion, I pull out a cigarette from my pocket and put it between my teeth. I am not going to survive this show without some nicotine in my system.

I pull up into the driveway that wraps around a tall fountain in front of the house. The rain has stopped temporarily, but there is no doubt that it will start up again soon. Slamming the car door shut, I walk closer to the marble structure as I light the cig between my fingers.

I can still spot the pennies Rose and I threw in when we believed the fountain was a wishing well. I wonder if any of Rose's wishes ever came true.

Breathing out the smoke, I feel my muscles relax. My eyes sweep over the driveway and I don't recognize any of the cars. It doesn't surprise me. The Hales can afford the luxury and they get bored quickly.

The house is beautiful and extravagant; however, those of us who know Nana Hale, know she likes it that way. Papa Hale gifted Nana this humongous place for their tenth wedding anniversary. It really is a shame he died before I was born. Something tells we would have gotten along so well.

The line of pine trees around the house make the repainted, white siding look beautiful. The sharply arched windows and the stained glass make the house every bit as jaw-dropping as it once was. When Nana's health declined after Papa's death, Rose's family moved in to take care of her and Carlisle quit his job in L.A. and returned to Forks so he could visit her more frequently. Then he met the love of his life and settled down for good.

I've spent the better part of my childhood here. I know my way around this place like the back of my hand.

I know where I first learned to play the guitar, with the help of Carlisle's guiding hands and Edward's synchronizing piano notes.

I know exactly where Rose and I buried Pluto, our dog. I cried so much when he died. He broke my heart, and then Edward broke it again.

And I'm still standing here, a few feet away from him, readying myself for yet, another, heartbreak.

_He's seeing someone, you know. She's good for him._

Rose's words over the phone cut through my heart in a flash. It was a warning as well as a heads-up for me, and for that, I was grateful.

Everyone knows I'm terrible at poker. My emotions are like wildfire; left unchecked, they are uncontrollable and possibly dangerous.

I put out the cig and run my fingers through my hair, in hopes of smoothing out the tangles. Pulling my jacket tighter, I walk to the front porch and ring the bell. I rub my hands together as my stomach churns in anticipation.

The double doors swing open and I look up.

Rose smiles at me.

It's a sad smile.

Her hair shines golden under the porch lights and I try to remember if she always had this many freckles on her nose.

Rose hesitantly takes two steps forward and wraps her arms around me. The hug is awkward at best.

"You look so different," She tells me in a small voice.

"You do too." My voice is barely above a whisper.

Rose takes my hand and I look down at them. My hand is clammy and I know she feels it too. I know she wants to let go and rub hers on the back of her jeans or maybe even go wash it with anti-bacterial hand wash, because she's obsessively compulsive that way; but she doesn't. She grabs on as if trying to feel the bond through our skin.

I'm afraid she won't feel it anymore.

Was our friendship always this fickle?

Rose tugs on my hand and I let her lead me inside the house. It surprises me how much I can still relate to my memory- such as the ornate furnishings, the red carpet and the grand chandelier above our head. I'd have figured Esme had redesigned the place again completely, since making pretty houses prettier, is what she did.

Rose pulls me through the room and suddenly I feel more eyes on me than I can count. Letting go off my hand, she walks to a man in a sky-blue shirt and wraps her arm around his. For the first time since I saw Rose, I notice her ring. It's more of a large, shiny rock, taking up the width of two of her fingers.

"Bella, this is Royce King, my fiancé," Rose introduces, stroking her ring, "And Royce, this is Bella Swan."

Royce steps forward and out of Rose's grip to shake my hand, saying, "It's a pleasure."

"Likewise," I reply politely, taking in his tall build.

He's everything Em is not.

Royce's hair is blond to the point it almost seems silvery-white, and his eyes are a cold, piercing blue. His appearance screams wealthy businessman, with his matching tie and his black suit jacket, which is currently folded up on the couch armrest.

"Bella," Rose calls back my attention, "This is Alice and Jasper Whitlock," pointing at the couple sitting on the loveseat.

"It's very nice to meet you, Bella," The raven haired woman says as she smiles at me.

I smile back. "It's nice to meet you too, Alice."

"I'm the maid of honor and we're going to have so much fun planning this wedding! And, by the way, if Rosie turns into a bridezilla, we can lock her up in a room and forget her." Alice winks at me.

My smile falls and I desperately try to hide the hurt from my expression, but from the guilty look on Rose's face, I don't think I succeed.

"I'm sure we'll have a great time." I struggle to maintain a smile.

Honestly, I don't think I was expecting to be crowned Rose's maid of honor. There is too much water under the bridge to care for six-year-old promises.

But God, does it hurt.

Jasper Whitlock gives me a small smile and inclines his head. "Call me Jas," He tells me, unconsciously rubbing his wife's protruded stomach lovingly.

I nod back at him and face Rose. "Where are your parents?"

"They're in the kitchen. Go meet them. They were waiting for you all day." Rose takes a seat beside Royce, who is swiping away on his tablet.

I follow the smell of food to the kitchen where I find Char standing behind the kitchen counter, stirring, and Peter setting the table. Char looks up and catches my eyes.

"Bella," She gasps.

I walk into her welcoming arms, remembering the many times her kind words and gentle hands comforted me in times of distress. Rose's parents were there for me when mine weren't. They've always been there, treating me and caring for me like their own.

Peter kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around me, whispering into my ear, "We've missed you so much, sweetheart."

"I've missed you too," My voice is shaky and I see Char rub away a tear from the corner of her eye.

Despite Rosalie and my fallout, they always tried to keep in contact with me. Be it a call on my birthday or a gift for Christmas.

"Peter, go and call the others for dinner." Char starts garnishing the food.

"Can I help?" I ask.

"No, it's all finished here. Do you want to go wake Nana up from her nap instead?" Char suggests, smiling.

"Sure."

I start to climb up the stairs to reach Nana's room, but Char stops me. "Uh, Bella, the downstairs guest bedroom belongs to Nana now… Since she can't move without a wheelchair."

"Why? Is she okay?" The panic is evident in my voice.

"It's nothing serious. Just old age catching up, you know. Not that she'll ever admit it herself." Char laughs, rolling her eyes.

I knock on the bedroom door twice, but no one answers. Peeking in, I find Nana under the covers, her eyes shut in deep slumber. I kneel down beside her and watch her chest rise and fall with every breath she takes.

I remember putting my head down on my father's chest when he was in the I.C.U., connected to machines that kept his heart beating. I remember being terrified that one rise of his chest could be the last breath he ever took.

I hold Nana's hand between mine and her eyes slowly flutter open. For a moment, she squints at me and then reaches out to touch my face. I lean into it, craving it.

"Pass me my glasses," Nana says, pointing at the bedside-table where her glasses rest.

I hand them to her quietly, watching as she puts them on. Her eyes are the softest shade of green and it reminds me of Edward. Her flaming red hair, another thing she shared with Edward, has turned gray now. She's more beautiful than I've seen her.

After positioning her glasses on her nose, she looks at me.

She stares and stares and stares, and then looks away suddenly.

"Get out." Her words are loud and clear and leave my heart in tatters.

"What?" My voice is choked and colored in pain. I don't know how much more I can take.

She's still not looking at me and I don't know what to do, so I sit beside her and try to catch her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Nana." My voice breaks in places and I squeeze her hand between mine.

"Why are you here, now?" She asks, staring out of the window.

"I—" I start to put my jumbled thoughts into words but Nana cuts me off, "Doesn't matter why you are here. Either help me break those two apart or get out."

"_What?"_ My voice is a few octaves higher than normal. Nana shushes me and I frown.

"Help me break up Rosie and that asshat and I'll let you stay in my house," Nana repeats, her eyes trained upon my face.

"_WHAT!"_ I shoot up as if my ass is on fire.

Nana raises an eyebrow at me, her arms crossed before her.

"Okay, what are you on, old woman?" I say with my hands on my hips.

"Listen here, young lady, you do not get to leave without a word and then waltz back into our lives like nothing has happened. You hurt so many people when you left, including me. I loved you like my own and you hurt me. The others may forgive you but not me.

I gape at her as she continues, "You're here for Rosie's wedding, right? Well, if you _really_ are her friend, prove it. Help me stop this wedding, because I can bet on my life that my Rosie will not be happy with that man out there. And I will not let the mistakes of two foolish people destroy the happiness of my family."

By the end of her speech, her voice is thin and she starts to cough for breath. I quickly hand her the glass of water from the table and wait as she gets her breathing under control.

"Nana, I'm here to arrange Rose's wedding, not break it off. And what makes you think she won't be happy in this marriage?" I ask, frowning.

"Because he's not Emmett!" She shrieks at me.

We both look towards the door when we hear footsteps coming closer. "This conversation is not over yet. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone … I swear —" Nana stops when the door burst open.

"Nana, it's time for dinner." A voice speaks from behind me and I don't even have to turn around to know who it is. All my senses are on hyper-drive and I struggle to keep my expression neutral.

At the whisper of my name, I turn around to face him.

I've imagined meeting Edward again in my head so many times that this hardly seems real. Not all the time in the world could have prepared me for this moment.

When my mother met Edward for the first time, she said that he would grow up to be a very handsome man. Turns out that my mother was right. She was right about everything, no matter how much I'd like to say otherwise

One day I overheard her talking to her friends as they were giggling and using their terrible, match-making skills to predict who could end up with whom.

I was never paired with Edward.

There are shades of amber and red in his hair now. He has a stubble going and it works for him. Spectacularly, I might add.

He's less lean and fuller, though still not as big as Em. The shirt and trousers he's wearing makes him look impossibly mature.

I keep forgetting that the last time we spoke to each other we were in college. Now he's a doctor—a cardiologist—and it brings tears to my eyes to know that despite everything, we've both managed to achieve our goals.

He doesn't smile at me and I don't blame him.

"Hello, Edward." My voice is strong and I give myself a mental pat on the back.

"Bella." He repeats my name, nodding at me.

"Well, if you two are finished now, I'd like to have my dinner," Nana speaks, grabbing both of our attentions.

Edward walks closer to the bed and effortlessly lifts Nana, sitting her in the wheelchair.

"I got it." I say, grabbing the handles as Edward reaches for them. He nods at me again and exits quickly as I start pushing Nana forward.

"Boy, that could have gone better." Nana chuckles.

In the dining space, everyone's waiting for us. They're all settled into their chairs and I'm not shocked to find that the chair I previously used to occupy, the one beside Edward, is taken. A woman with brown hair and purple highlights occupies it now. At first, I think I don't know her, but at a closer look, her features seem familiar.

As we near the table, she turns to look at us and I freeze in my spot.

_No, no, no, no, no!_

Leah bounds up from her chair and captures me in her arms. "Oh, it's so great to see you again, Bella!"

I somehow manage to choke out a reply and she smiles blindingly at me. Peter asks me to grab a seat, and as fate would have it, the only unoccupied one is opposite to Edward and Leah.

"So, Bella, what are you up to these days?" Peter questions. I don't say anything for a long time.

I tell him about my work in New York but I don't actually hear the words I'm saying since all I'm thinking about right now is running far, far away from here.

I look at Leah and she smiles at me politely throughout the conversation.

_She wouldn't. _

_Would she?_

"How'd you get so late today, Leah?" Alice asks, forking through her peas.

"I was supposed to pick up a few books from Angie, but she wasn't there so I suppose I'll have to go back again tomorrow." Leah sighs.

"Actually, Angie called me saying you weren't picking up your phone and she had to go out so I went and got the books for you." Edward tells Leah, smiling. It's the first time he's spoken during dinner.

"That was so sweet of you. Thank you." Leah smiles back, pecking him on the lips.

_This could not be happening to me._

My phone rings suddenly and I use it as an excuse to leave the room, thanking God for his mercy.

Out back, in the courtyard, I gasp for breath. I cup my head in my hands and let the sobs rock through my body.

Everything I've been running from for my whole life just caught up to me. And I can't run anymore.

I've reached the end of the road.

"I didn't tell him anything, if that's what you're wondering." Leah stands beneath the archway leading to the courtyard. The pale moonlight makes her tan skin glow.

"Why?" The word is out before I can even think about it, hanging there for a moment, hauntingly, before Leah speaks again.

"Not my place."

I breathe out a sigh of relief, trying inconspicuously to dry my tears. My heart's beating so fast I can hear it in my ears.

"I won't tell him anything, but you should." Leah wanders closer to me, holding a flower petal between her thumb and index finger.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters. He deserves to know. And this may be your chance."

I don't say anything. Her words are so true it makes me question every decision I've ever made.

"Just think about it, okay?"

Then she's gone and I'm alone again.

I don't want to cry anymore.

I've cried more times this week than I've cried for the last six years.

Coming to Forks was a very bad idea.

* * *

_My nails are digging into his skin, but he doesn't complain. I know he likes it this way._

_His shirt is open to reveal his sculpted chest and I can't help but run my_ _hands over it. He shivers at my touch and it makes me smile._

_He kisses down my neck and my hand goes straight for his zipper._

_Edward's hands __stop__ mine. "Whoa! Baby, are you sure?" He asks, his eyes never leaving my face._

_I'm sure._

_I was sure._

_I don't know what I'm doing anymore._

_I rest my forehead on his shoulder and breathe out heavily._

"_Bella, look at me. Are you okay?"_

_Edward puts a finger under my chin to make me look at him._

"_Did you have another fight with Charlie?" His expression is concerned as he __moves __a lock of hair back into place behind my ear._

_I nod. _

_All I seem to do these days is fight with Charlie. _

_It almost makes me __wish for __the times__ when we could get through the day without __ever__ talking to each other. _

_Almost._

"_He just doesn't understand!" My voice is loud and filled with __pent-up__ frustration. Edward pulls me to his lap and runs his hand down my arms soothingly._

"_Back when I didn't know what to do with my life, he kept nagging me about colleges and shit. Now, when I actually know what I want to do, he says no. He says photography isn't worthwhile; it's just a hobby, and that I'm ruining my life." I sigh, shaking my head._

_Edward repeats the same words he says every time I'm upset. _

_Don't worry._

_It'll blow over._

_It's going to be fine._

_His words do nothing to console me __anymore; if__ anything, it makes me even madder._

_He doesn't understand what it's like to put up with an alcoholic father who is still grieving over the loss of his wife. _

_He doesn't know what it's like to worry about who's going to __pay tuition fees__ or who's going to put food on __his__ plate when he leaves this town for good._

_He doesn't __understand how hard it is to feel__ suffocated all the damn time._

_I push out of his embrace and walk to the window, shrugging on my T-shirt._

"_You don't understand. I want to fly, Edward. My dreams are too big for this town. I just don't want to fall."_

"_You won't." He says __confidently,__ and just for a second, I actually believe him._

* * *

I'm remain on the soft grass in the courtyard and a million memories are playing through my mind. Faces and moments flash before my eyes and I watch every mistake I've ever made in slow motion.

A minute later, Edward plops down beside me and hands me a bottle of beer. I can tell he wants to say something by the way he keeps running his hand through his hair. I sip my beer patiently, waiting for him to find the words.

"So, did you fall?"

I look at him, shocked that he remembers.

He looks away.

It's better this way.

I don't think I can look at his face right now.

"I never got up," I say quietly.

Hearing the words come out of my mouth, I suddenly realize that they're the truest I've ever spoken.

-x-


End file.
